


First Time

by allouette



Category: The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 16:37:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1476625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allouette/pseuds/allouette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This is <i>awesome</i>.”</p>
<p>“Dude, it’s just a house. No big deal.”</p>
<p>“Easy for you to say. You’re used to this kind of thing, you’ve probably been in a million rock star houses. I’ve never set foot in one.”</p>
<p>“Whatever, man. I hope the mess doesn’t shatter your precious illusion because I’m a little bit of a slob sometimes. And there’s dog hair on almost everything.”</p>
<p>Or my version of the first time Blake goes over to Adam's house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Sandra for the beta.

When the show is over for the day and Adam says, “hey, do you wanna come over?” Blake goes from a little confused to a little excited in the span of about three seconds.

“You mean like, to your house?” Blake asks because this is new. It’s also huge because it’s Adam’s _home_ , where he lives, and it feels a little bit like forbidden territory or something, even if they have become pretty great friends already.

“What the hell else would I mean? Yes, to my house. I don’t feel like going home alone. We can have some drinks, hang out, talk shit, whatever. You don’t have to if—”

“Hell yeah, I want to,” Blake says, like he’s really going to turn this invitation down. He’s not a complete idiot. “Let’s go!”

Out in the lot, Blake starts to rethink their plan when Adam pulls up to the door in his tiny Ferrari and tells Blake to hop in. Seeing as this is Los Angeles and Blake doesn’t drive in this city, doesn’t know where the hell anything is, including his own house, his options at the moment are limited.

“Hop-- Are you kiddin’ me? What do you want me to do, chop my legs off and toss ‘em into the trunk? Does this thing even _have_ a trunk?” Blake asks, seriously trying to figure out how he’s going to fold himself into the front seat without dislocating something in the process.

“Oh, quit your bitching and get in, Shelton. It’s not that bad.”

By the time they get to Adam’s house, Blake is more than ready to crawl out of that car. While it may be a fast ride, there’s nothing pleasant about feeling like his ass is three inches from dragging the ground and his knees have gotten well acquainted with his ears. He will stick to his trucks over fast sports cars any day, thank you.

Once he’s on his feet again, legs and back stretched out and seeing Adam’s house with his own two eyes, he can’t help but feel a little in awe. He’s still staring as Adam starts to walk away; he actually has to turn back and ask Blake if he’s coming.

“This is _awesome_ ,” Blake says, finally following Adam up to the door; he’s been to some nice houses in Nashville, has one himself that isn’t too bad, but none of them look quite like this. He can’t say he’s surprised considering no one else he has ever met is quite like Adam.

“Dude, it’s just a house. No big deal.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re used to this kind of thing, you’ve probably been in a million rock star houses. I’ve never set foot in one.”

Adam is grinning a little as he shakes his head, unlocking the door and pushing it open. “Whatever, man. I hope the mess doesn’t shatter your precious illusion because I’m a little bit of a slob sometimes. And there’s dog hair on almost everything.”

“Now that is somethin’ I am used to.”

“Tour first, drinks after?” Adam asks, tossing his keys and wallet onto a nearby table. “Food is a maybe. I might have something edible in the kitchen, I'm not sure. I think Gene is a lot better at keeping it stocked than I am.”

“Yeah, sure. I'm just following your lead here,” Blake replies, hands shoved into his pockets as he walks behind Adam and takes in his surroundings.

The tour is a little less than grand; Adam leads him through the house from room to room without really stopping. Adam doesn’t see anything special about dining rooms and where his couch is and that there’s an island in his kitchen. He’s here every day, these things don’t faze him, but Blake is amazed because the couch they walk past looks like purple velvet and everything in Adam’s kitchen is shining stainless steel, the chairs surrounding the dining room table like pieces of art. Blake gets his brief glance at the bottom floor before they head upstairs, which Adam calls boring because guest rooms, who gives a fuck, and an office that he doesn't really use. Their last stop is his bedroom, “where the magic happens,” and Blake tries really hard not to think about that at all.

Stepping inside, it’s everything Blake could have possibly imagined and even more. The walls and ceiling are both painted dark, but there are enough windows to keep the room bright. He makes a point of looking at everything but the bed because that’s the one thing he can’t handle. Luckily there's plethora of other things to grab his attention from framed pictures on the walls to various guitars sitting around and the main thing that blows Blake’s mind the most: a beautiful black grand piano positioned back against one wall. 

“You have a _piano_ in your bedroom?” Blake asks, his back to Adam as he checks it out, letting his fingers dance across a couple of random keys even though he doesn’t really know how to play.

“Sure,” Adam says with a shrug like it’s the most normal thing in the world, like who doesn’t have a piano in their bedroom?

“See what I mean by rock star?” Blake asks, sweeping a hand across the top of the piano before he turns back around. “You—Whoa,” he says because as soon as he is facing Adam again, Adam is sinking down to his knees in front of him and Blake can’t help but wonder if he just stepped into some alternate reality where this sort of thing actually happens to him.

Adam looks up at him, his hands reaching for Blake’s belt as he asks, “can I?” and all Blake can do is blink for a moment because _holy shit_. He feels himself sway slightly, the small of his back hitting the piano behind him for support. He’d be lying if he said he never thought about this, thought about Adam in a less than appropriate way; he stood up on the Voice stage and sang Adam’s own song back to him in a very suggestive way less than a week ago for fuck’s sake. On purpose. _With_ purpose. Was he really being that obvious?

For the first time in his life, Blake doesn’t trust himself to speak. Instead he licks his lips and without giving it a second thought nods his head, giving Adam permission to continue. He has been blushing since he turned around, his face on fire, but he’s also so completely turned on because Adam is _on his knees_ , pulling Blake’s belt free from the loops on his jeans and tossing it aside. It’s a picture straight out of a fantasy, if Blake ever let himself dare to dream.

His heart is pounding so hard in his chest he is convinced Adam should be able to hear it as sure fingers unbutton his jeans, and it’s so fucking surreal that this is actually happening he almost wants to laugh, has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself. He's a little embarrassed for being so turned on because he's half expecting Adam to get up any second now, to stop messing with his zipper and pull away rather than continue, spring to his feet and say, "I'm kidding! Just fucking with you!" leaving Blake with a raging hard on and nothing but his right hand.

Life isn’t that cruel, thank god, and instead Adam pulls Blake's zipper all the way down, tugs loose denim down Blake's thighs, mouthing Blake's dick through the thin cotton of his boxer briefs. 

_‘Fuck, this is really happening.’_ Blake doesn’t even realize he has said the words out loud until he feels Adam’s small breath of laughter right before he’s looking up, hands squeezing Blake’s thighs.

“Did you think I was joking?”

“Maybe a little?” Blake admits, wishing he could do something about the way his legs are already starting to shake under Adam’s touch.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Hell no!”

Adam flashes a smirk, cocky and sexy as hell, and by that look alone Blake is pretty sure he is going to regret saying those words in a few minutes. 

As soon as Adam’s mouth touches him, Adam’s tongue licking a long, slow stripe along the length of his cock, Blake closes his eyes, doesn’t think he will be able to survive this any other way. It’s wet hot suction as Adam gets right to it after that, wastes no time in swallowing Blake down as far as he can take it, until his mouth meets his fist wrapped around the base.

Blake has no option but to hold on for dear life here, one of his hands resting on the back of Adam’s head, fingers sliding through short hair, the other gripping the edge of the piano behind him so tightly his knuckles ache. Adam is too good at this and Blake wants to know how, _why_ , but at the same time he doesn't, wants to keep this all to himself now as Adam’s mouth and hand work in tandem to get him off. He wants to look but can’t, doesn’t think he can handle the sight of that pretty mouth wrapped around his dick right now, not when he’s struggling so bad to hold it together simply because it’s _Adam_.

His breathing sounds too loud in his ears in the quiet of the room, and the slick slide of Adam’s mouth on his skin is downright pornographic. When he pulls off with a wet pop, Blake’s toes curl in his boots at the sound of it, Adam’s hand gliding along the hard length of his dick, his thumb sweeping over the head, smearing drops of precome that gather at the tip.

“Wanna know how long I’ve been thinking about doing this?” Adam asks, his voice just this side of wrecked and Blake knows it’s only going to get better by the time he finishes.

Blake’s eyes flutter open for a moment and he risks a quick glance down, and _god_ , the way Adam’s lips shine alone is almost too much. “Yes,” he says because _seriously_ , then quickly changes his mind. “No, fuck, please don't tell me, I can’t deal with that right now.”

Adam grins up at him before he gets back to work, lips wrapping around the head of Blake's cock and sucking hard, pulling a string of colorful curses right out of him. Adam hums his amusement and his approval, and Blake groans out loud because the sound cuts straight through him, a nice little vibration that adds fuel to the already raging fire. He feels short fingernails dig into the muscle of the back of his thigh as Adam grips it tight, and when they start to slowly drag down, scratching and possibly breaking skin, that’s it. That extra little spark of pain in just the right place has Blake’s knees buckling, and he leans heavily against the piano for support.

“Fuck, Adam, I can’t—”

Adam pulls off long enough for them to maneuver Blake back a few steps to sit on the bench, and if anything, Blake realizes this might be worse because now? Now Adam has leverage and determination, and he bends over Blake’s lap and sucks him down without hesitation. Blake can do nothing but whine, an honest to god whine, his hips jerking up before he can stop them but Adam doesn’t seem to mind from the way he moans around the dick in his mouth. Blake finds that he can’t stop watching now, doesn’t care anymore because he’s not going to last much longer anyway, not if Adam and his tongue have anything to say about it. 

Both of Blake’s hands come to rest on Adam’s head as it bobs up and down, his fingers tangling in already messy hair, and if one of his thumbs sweeps down to trace over the hollow of Adam’s cheek, it’s because Blake just can’t help himself. The muscles in his stomach are clenching tight, and he knows Adam knows he’s close because he holds still for a moment, moans with Blake’s cock right there at his throat.

“You son of a—Five second warning,” Blake says with a tremble in his voice and a sharp tug on Adam’s hair. Adam gives him one more long, slow up and down drag of his mouth along the length of his cock, lips wrapped perfectly tight before Blake is coming with a choked out cry and a jerk of his hips. 

He feels strung out and boneless by the time Adam pulls away, reaching out with one hand to steady himself. He miscalculates the distance or forgets about the piano all together because his hand lands on the keys and the sudden sound is jarring, making them both jump. Blake wonders if they’re heading directly into awkward territory before his dick is even completely soft until Adam starts laughing, smoothing his hands over Blake’s thighs and pushing himself up with a groan. Blake pulls up his underwear as Adam sits on the bench next to him, taking a moment to rub his knees, and Blake can’t stop staring at his mouth, lips swollen and still glistening with the remnants of what he just did.

“Fuck, that was—” Adam starts at the same time Blake says, “hey,” and as soon as Adam looks at him, Blake presses their mouths together. It’s interesting as far as first kisses go, wet and sticky and Blake can honestly say he has never tasted himself in the other person’s mouth the first go round. That doesn’t stop him from diving back in for more, licking into Adam’s mouth until all he can taste is purely _Adam_ , sucking on his lower lip as he slowly eases back.

It’s a futile attempt at ending the kiss because as Blake pulls away Adam follows, straddling his lap and hauling him in for more. It’s a little awkward on the piano bench, but neither of them care enough to move just yet, especially when Blake’s hands find Adam’s hip, the bulge in the front of Adam’s jeans. Adam whimpers into the kiss and Blake makes quick work of getting his jeans open, isn’t sure if there’s going to be enough room to do this with how tight Adam wears them but he’s going to give it his best shot. He slides a hand in and wraps it around Adam’s cock, slick and leaking already, arousal pushed to the extreme just from sucking Blake off and isn’t _that_ something.

Adam breaks away from Blake’s mouth with a gasp, bucking up into Blake’s grip. "Go, go, go," he pleads, a breath away from kissing Blake again, and Blake swears it isn’t fair that he doesn’t have the recovery time of a teenager right now, jesus fuck.

There’s a little more space to work with Adam’s pants pulled wide open, Blake’s hand gliding along his dick with quick, sure strokes. There is still a part of him that can’t believe this is happening, that he’s sitting here jerking Adam off, that he just came down this guy’s throat; it is still a little unbelievable even when Adam keens so beautifully in his ear and fucks into the tight circle of Blake’s fist, clutching at his hair and the back of his neck. Blake wishes he had a better view, realizes belatedly that he should have thought this through a little better before he started because now he wants to see _everything_ , burn it into his brain for future reference. It doesn’t matter rather quickly because he feels the way Adam tenses and shudders, and a second later he’s coming in Blake’s hand, hot spurts coating Blake’s fingers, his face pressed into Blake’s neck.

He gives Adam a few moments to ride it out, waits for the twitches to stop. Blake has no idea what the etiquette is when it comes to best friend hand jobs, if he can get away with wiping his jizz covered hand on an article of Adam’s clothes; then he thinks about how the man just _swallowed_ his and, well, sacrificing a shirt in the name of friendship and orgasms is the least he can do. 

Adam is a little slow to shift off of him after Blake pulls his hand away, and he looks over, watches as Adam drags a hand through his hair, scrubs it over his face. “So. Did you, uh. Did you plan this? You know, when you asked me to come over?” Blake asks, cleaning his fingers off the best he can with his undershirt.

Adam watches him right back for a moment, snorting softly. “No. Well. Not exactly? I was going to… I don’t know. I don’t know what I was going to do. It was in my head that I was going to talk to you about it, but I couldn’t really figure out how to bring it up. How do you just strike up a conversation about wanting to have sex with someone that has become a really good friend?”

Blake shakes his head a little because yeah. Yeah.

“I’m sorry if this fucks things up between us or for you or—”

“Adam.”

“What?”

“It’s fine.”

“Is it?”

Blake thinks about that for a moment. He knows he will have to really think about it later on, try to figure out all of the important questions and why he’s not collapsing in a moment of crisis at the very thought of what just happened, but for now, he nods his head. “Did you hear me complainin’?”

Adam grins faintly, licks his lips. “Well, I feel disgusting,” he says, apparently closing the lid on that portion of the conversation. “You should come with me to clean up,” he stands, tugging his shirt up and off over his head.

Blake’s first thought is _shower_ and how he should really say no this time, but then Adam wanders out of the room, calls back after him, “c’mon, Shelton!” He can hear bare feet running down the hall and has an idea of where Adam is headed, taking the time to pull off his boots and fix his jeans before following. He hears the splash before he gets outside, passes the rest of Adam’s discarded clothing along the way, and finds him treading water in the middle of the pool.

“If this is how you always clean up, I’m questionin’ how clean that thing is.”

Adam rolls his eyes, sends a big splash of water in Blake’s direction but he’s only close enough to get his feet wet. “Shut up, it’s perfectly clean.”

“Uh huh,” Blake says as he steps up to the edge and kneels down. 

Adam swims up to him, folds his arms across warm concrete. “Are you not going to get in? Afraid I might see your farmer’s tan?”

“Hey, kiss my ass.”

“I can do that too, if you want,” Adam replies and grins when he sees the blush that spreads across Blake’s cheeks. Blake is too busy trying to come up with a clever response to notice the way Adam has his feet braced against the side of the pool, and when he says, “I’m sorry, man. I’ll stop being crude, I promise,” and puts a hand on Blake’s arm, Blake thinks nothing of it.

“You say that like we haven’t said worse and offended everybody on set.”

“This is true. So we’re good?”

“We’re always gonna be good.”

“Good,” Adam says, gets both hands wrapped around Blake’s arm and pulls hard, sending him head first into the pool. 

Blake comes up sputtering and shaking his head, wiping the chlorinated water from his eyes. He gets them open in time to see Adam cackling and putting a couple of feet of distance between them. “You dipshit,” Blake grumps, starting to unbutton his shirt, quickly feeling weighed down by his layers of soaked clothes.

“Yeah, so, what’re you going to do about it?”

He throws his plaid shirt over the edge of the pool where it lands with a resounding splat. “You’ll regret it, you just wait.”

Adam’s amusement is obvious and he sends another big splash in Blake’s direction. “Bring it on, cowboy.” Soaking wet jeans get tossed aside before Blake lunges for Adam, but he’s quick to move away. “You really think you can catch me?”

“Oh, I know I can,” Blake replies, this time throwing his t-shirt away. He’s really not the best swimmer and the pool is pretty big, but it’s not like they’re in the ocean; there’s only so far Adam can go. 

“Tell you what, if you do?” Adam says, taking a risk in getting closer. “I’ll tell you all of the other things I’ve been thinking about doing with you.” Blake’s stomach flip-flops and he forgets how to breathe for a second, then Adam is smirking and splashing water in his face. “But you have to catch me first!”

Blake is back to cursing but oh, the chase is so on.

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically the product of me watching the Oprah interview and getting stuck on the part where they're talking about the first time Blake went to Adam's house and Adam saying something like, "now he's just lying, literally none of that stuff happened." Because what if it was a lie? What if none of what Blake said was true? Also the two or three times Blake has talked about it, he always mentions the piano. So in my mind, porn was begging to happen. Naturally.


End file.
